I had no particular reason for making this image, other than it was peaceful. That’s often the way of it; I have no intention of making a particular image, it’s simply there, and it appeals to me. Often, I don’t even know why at the time, I just know I need to capture this moment. It’s not till I sit down to review the images of the day that I become aware of the ‘why’.

In the case of this image of purple hosta blossoms, the ‘why’ is still not revealing itself to me. So, I sit and enjoy it, for what it is, taking in the colours and textures, reveling in the memory of a soft, summer day.

“I thought how lovely and how strange a river is. A river is a river, always there, and yet the water flowing through it is never the same water and is never still. It’s always changing and is always on the move. And over time the river itself changes too. It widens and deepens as it rubs and scours, gnaws and kneads, eats and bores its way through the land.”― Aidan Chambers

The York River, in Central Ontario runs from Baptiste Lake, meanders through the region and changing its aspect several times along its course. It is inaccessible, other than by canoe through much of its journey.

I’ve hiked to many of the chutes and paddled several sections of this beautiful river. Yesterday, I went for a back-country drive, looking for a diversion from wildflowers, though I found many of them too.

During this drive I came across a road named Iron Bridge Road. The name got my attention and I proceeded to see where this “Iron Bridge” was, hoping I was not committing to a long drive, only to find that there used to be an iron bridge.

The bridge itself was not far down the road and I was pleasantly surprised to discover that it cross the York River and offered a nice view of the river as it wound its way through the back-country as a gentle flow, with lily pads and arrowroot growing along the shores. From my maps, it would appear it continues this way for several miles, before entering into a series of rapids and chutes.

“Most European nations identify themselves with eagles or lions, with some predator or creature of the air, ascendant and belligerent. I would like to visit the country which adopts the groundhog as its mascot, somewhere peaceful, some place that curls against the secrets of the earth, a little Belgium of the imagination, tables piled high with cakes, the Sunday bells ringing (not too loudly), the light falling on rolling hillocks studded with salad greens.” ― David Brendan Hopes

Groundhog day in May, you say?

I have not seen a groundhog in years. They used to be so numerous that my parents used them as a drive-time distraction when travelling to the cottage. “Hey kids, count how many groundhogs you can see on the way.”, was the common starting dialogue on our trips. A good tactic back then, as we would see hundreds in the fields along the road.

I know these burrowing creatures have been the bane of cattle farmers, as the cows would break their legs when they stepped into a groundhog hole. There are many who took great pleasure sitting in farm fields with their 22’s, picking off the groundhogs as their heads popped out of the ground. I suspect this was far too common and the population was pretty much wiped out in my area.

So, it was very nice to see this fellow on a rock-garden wall, posing so nicely for me. In fact, we was a bit too friendly and came right up to a few watching children, who had no idea what kind of animal he was.

“This life is yours. Take the power to choose what you want to do and do it well. Take the power to love what you want in life and love it honestly. Take the power to walk in the forest and be a part of nature. Take the power to control your own life. No one else can do it for you. Take the power to make your life happy.” ― Susan Polis Schutz

If we were having a coffee…

I’d tell you about how beautiful the past week has been. Temperatures, though up and down, have been getting milder, my favourite wildflowers are beginning to bloom, and the trout are running up Duffins Creek. The annual cycle of spring is in full swing.

These are the days I can barely stand to sit inside working, but work has to get done. Yet, I’m fortunate to live very close to many hiking trails and creeks that I can enjoy during my lunch time. And then, there are weekends where the trails beckon for longer visits, weather permitting.

Today, I went for a hike with my son, who also enjoys the outdoors and photography. We visited the dam at Whitevale, hoping to capture some migrating trout jumping. It’s been a strange season and the water is still quite cold, so, no luck there. On top of that, the fishing season just opened and the usually quiet shores were lined with a continuous row of fishermen, some friendly and welcoming, others, not so much. I know this is but a brief moment in time and soon calm will return once more.

We left the creek and drove a few miles north to the East Duffins Creek Headwaters trail, for peaceful walk in the woods, pictured above. The trails are lined with red pine and a mix of hardwoods. This area is at a slightly higher elevation and wildflowers were a bit more sparse. Despite that, we had a great time walking and catching up. How’s your week been?

“Peace is not found by seeking it but in simply letting it be.” ― Janni Styles

I’ve enjoyed this small brook that flows from a farm field into Duffins Creek below Whitevale. The sound of the water flowing over the rocks is so calming. I could sit there all day and simply enjoy the peace.

I made this photo just before a light, early April snowfall started (not impressed by that feature). The mid afternoon light was dull and diffused, which made for an easy 1/8 second time exposure, to put the water into motion. It had frozen the night before, creating the few icicles visible to the mid-right. The photo captures a bit of the calm I enjoyed and I’m hoping to pass it on to others.

Like stars in a dark sky, these maple keys glowed against a shadowy forest. Lit by a late afternoon sun that seemed to spark some inner light, more than just the sunlight itself, these dried Manitoba Maple keys mesmerized me. I stood for a while, just enjoying this scene and considering ways to photograph it in a way that communicated this light effectively. It was difficult to get the angle right and minimize the artifacting that can occur when light is at an inopportune angle.

I beleive this image does justice to the show that nature provided me. I rarely notice the fine details as I’m composing the image and enjoy ‘discovering’ these little extras as I work with the final product, deatils such as the fine bent stems remaining after the keys have dropped.

Early one morning in late summer 2014, I went down to the lakefront with my daughter. It was one of those typical cool mornings on the lake where the mist from the warm water rises up and just hangs there for a few minutes before rising higher in the sky to become a cloud.

We spent some time on the dock, both making photos of the ethereal beauty of the mist as it moved in an intricate dance above the water’s surface. I was just about finished when I looked back and saw her standing on the dock and gazing across the lake. Only she can say what she might have been thinking at that moment, but she seemed transfixed by the mist, contemplating the scene in from of her. Given the slight halo around her head, she was probably reviewing her photos. It’s very serene and a moment I’m happy to have been able to capture and carry with me.

I was going for high depth of field to show some of the details in the swirling fog and a faster shutter to compensate for the brightness of the fog. It had a nice effect on the overall lighting.